


The Only Rule that Matters

by freezerjerky



Series: How to Date Your Flatmate [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, because my soul is made of kittens, romantic mush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 18:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock only keeps one rule when it comes to dealing with his relationship</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Rule that Matters

**Author's Note:**

> Starts almost right where "How to Date Your Flatmate" leaves off.

**The Only Rule That Matters When You Embark on a Romantic/Sexual Relationship With Your Flatmate:**

 **Your moderately idiotic flatmate may somehow get the idea that you don’t take the relationship as seriously as they do because you seem to push certain ideas a lot sooner and may seem immature at times. However, what they fail to grasp, is that you are incredibly emotionally invested in the venture and you have been overwhelmingly emotionally invested in their life since before you began dating. What you have to remember is that there are three words you may want to say the first night you end up desperately fucking on the sofa, or whenever they kiss your neck, or the first time you intentionally have sex, or even after your first fight, but save them until you can’t bear them not knowing.**

 ****Sherlock actually fell soundly asleep the first night he slept in John’s bed without having any sort of sex. It was John who woke suddenly through the night first, and it was his sudden movement that woke up his partner. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was John staring intently at him.

“Nightmare?” Sherlock said.

John still occasionally had nightmares. One of the reasons Sherlock wanted to sleep with him every night was to make him feel safe while asleep. He didn’t even mind when they left John shaking and sometimes crying. (He did mind that he had reason to believe that none of these dreams had anything to do with Afghanistan.)

“No, just a normal dream,” John replied. “You, again.”

John rolled over.

“You don’t like looking at me?” Sherlock teased.

“I like it too much.”

“Oh, it was that kind of dream, then?”

Sherlock slid his arm around his partner’s waist and pulled himself closer, until he was lying against his back. He planted a kiss on the scar on the back of his left shoulder. John rarely let him touch it from the front, but he often seized the opportunity to kiss the long since healed exit would.

“We were playing rugby but you kept on going on and on about how bored you were.”

“I would be prodigiously bored if I was playing rugby. I’d like to watch you play, though.”

“I’m complete shite at it anymore. Maybe if you use your big brain to invent a time machine you can go back and watch me play in the past.”

“I’ll put that on the to-do list.”

“I can see it now: solve cold cases, shag John, pester New Scotland Yard, invent time travel.”

“Generally shag John would be higher up on the list.”

“Damn right.”

They both were quiet for a few minutes. Sherlock grabbed John’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“You have such lovely hands,” John mused.

That was when it hit Sherlock. He had known it for months, before they had even started, of course. Nothing slipped past his intellect. That moment, though, was the one moment where he couldn’t bear keeping it to himself any longer and didn’t care about the consequences.

“I love you.”

John did not startle as Sherlock thought he might. He did not sit up bolt straight and give him a confused look. Instead, he moved their joined hands up to his lips and kissed the back of Sherlock’s hand.

“Same.”


End file.
